A Sleepy Meeting
by DisturbingBunnyRabbit
Summary: America falls asleep during a meeting and the G8 wonder why...


**A.N.) **God, this has been sitting in my computer for so long. Please excuse my abuse of parentheses and semicolons. Enjoy and review~ ^w^

**Disclaimer: **I own the world! _/is shot/_ Fine, I own nothing… *sobs in corner*

"Well, now what do we do we do?" The irritable British man asked. The members of the G8 looked at the sleeping nation before them. Somehow, the ever energetic America had fallen asleep during a meeting. And he wouldn't wake up. They had roused him a few times, but he'd just slip back asleep after mumbling about hamburgers for a bit.

"Maybe if we make pasta, the nice smell will wake him up!" Veneziano quipped.

"No way are we going to waste good pasta on that hamburger bastard!" snapped Romano. Germany sighed, his forehead resting on his palm. Why was it they could never get anything done?

"…perhaps he'd wake if Russia would try?" Germany ventured uncertainly. Realizing that said nation had been unusually quite during this ordeal, the group turned towards Russia's seat. Japan let out a light gasp. There, slumbering away in his chair was Russia. England growled in frustration. Both of them? Really? How irresponsible. (Never mind that England once fell asleep during an allied meeting; that was different.)

"Honestly, I expected this sort of thing from the brat, but Russia too?"

"Oh honhonhon, but don't you see?" France chuckled.

"See what, you frog?"

"Now we know just why they are exhausted!" A perverted smile spread lazily across his face.

"Ve~ why's that, Brother France?" France chuckled again. "

Isn't it obvious? Russia was over at America's house last night, non? Due to their bosses' wishes that they get along?"

"What is your point France?" Germany cut in. France waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"My point is that they were up all night 'improving their foreign relations,'" He replied. Romano gave a gagging noise, England responded with;

"Belt up, you bloody fool!" and Italy… Well, Italy asked;

"Ve? You mean they were becoming friends? How nice!" Germany massaged his temples, trying hard not to hit France. Trying very hard.

"Enough!" He said finally. "Let's all just take a lunch break and hope they're up by the time it's over." After a brief lunch that involved much screaming and crying, (Italy had tripped and spilled his pasta) everyone walked back to the conference room. They stopped at the door which had been left ajar; hearing the voices of the formerly slumbering nations.

"We will have to do that again, sometime," Russia's voice could be heard saying. The other nations peeked into the room, trying not to topple on one another.

America flashed Russia a grin before answering, "Yeah, I had a great time!" Russia continued to smile (not that he ever stopped, and if he did, heaven help you) before replying;

"Da, I quite enjoyed playing with you. Though I must admit, it tired me out. Perhaps we should not engage in such activities before conference days?"

"Haha, yeah. It lasted longer than I thought. How many rounds did we go, anyway?" America asked breezily.

"I believe it was eight." By this time, England and Germany were white faced, Romano was trying not to throw up his lasagna, Veneziano was petting a random cat, France was grinning like a madman, and Japan was stemming a nosebleed. Canada had been curiously missing through the entire meeting thus far, but if one listened close enough, you'd swear you hear gagging in the corner…

"B-bloody hell…"

"Oh honhonhonhonhon. What did I tell you?" France gloated.

The nations slowly entered the meeting hall and took their respective seats. For the next few hours, every one besides Russia and America was strangely silent. (Except Veneziano and France, but for two VERY different reasons) When the conference let out, England, Germany, and the Italys bolted for the door. (Veneziano was dragged) Japan hurried out muttering about doujinshi and telling Hungary, and France smirked at the two remaining Nations before flouncing out the door. America glanced at Russia before breaking into a smile.

"Next time, I'll win for sure. I'm the king of video games!" America declared. Russia chuckled.

"Ah, but I am the _god_ of Tetris. Gods beat kings, da?" America pouted.

"Next time,_ I_ choose the game. But I have to admit, you're pretty good," allowed the stubborn nation.

"Thank you, you are not bad yourself. I look forward to our next gaming marathon," Russia returned. America laughed in response as they finished packing up papers and left to passive-aggressively argue about whose ballet was better on the way to drop the Russian off at the airport.


End file.
